


sylleblossoms

by WhispersIntheMorning



Series: Freedom [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Nyx!Lives, nice things need to happen to that guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhispersIntheMorning/pseuds/WhispersIntheMorning
Summary: She can do it because she was born to die. She was born and cradled in Sylleblossoms—Deathblossoms that birth only once before perishing—and no doubt she would follow in their path.Luna has a choice between life and death.She chooses life. (Nyx!lives AU told in drabbles)





	sylleblossoms

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I would keep this going.

She has a choice.

It’s a terrifying thought, one that has followed her into the depths of hell and back, but it is hers to make. She can follow the gods whispering in her ear, follow their yearning for death and the darkest of nights, only for the sun to rise in a brittle, broken song.

She can give them that.

It’s the easiest of choices. She can do it because she was born to die. She was born and cradled in Sylleblossoms—Deathblossoms that birth only once before perishing—and no doubt she would follow in their path.

There is another choice, though. It is fleeting and fragile, and for a moment she doesn’t even realize that it is a choice until he stands before her in his Kingsglaive uniform.

“You wish to see a better world, Nyx Ulric?”

She waits for his answer. She can see the burns roping their way up his wrist, can see the wreckage the ring has wrought upon his body. Her magic calls to it, because she is a goddess made flesh and it is her duty to save those suffering from death.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

It burns like fire, like acid on her skin, like boiling blood. She shouldn’t, but she does. She reaches for his charred hand and wills it to heal, wills him to live. It takes a piece of her, just as it always does, and what is left is the aching in her bones and the scream of Gods and Kings in her head.

But she is a Sylleblossom, she is Death.

And just once, just this once, she blooms.

“Then let us do it together.”


End file.
